Of Redheads and Rednecks
by theflawintheplan
Summary: Eric's town doesn't like strangers. A "Jew family" comes and are hated. Unfornately for young Eric, the new kid, who's around his age, considers it his mission to cure the redneck of his ignorant ways. And despite himself, the former feels drawn to him...
1. Chapter 1

_Dear Reader,_

_I feel the need to warn you that this is NOT by stretch of the imagination, a happy story. I should not bother you with it at all, but he would have wanted me to let go of the pain and move on, so that is the basis for my own selfish reasons. Besides, I have thought long and hard about how I would move on after everything that happened, and finally decided that the best way is by telling you the truth of what happened, not the lies the town spread throughout the country. He would have liked that._

_I first met Kyle Broflovski in the middle of 2008. My fifteenth summer was a hot, dry one during which the residents of Newburg, Missouri barely left their homes for fear their cheap lipstick melting off in rivers of soup-substance; their expensive suits ending up darker than when they were originally bought; or simply falling through a dry crack in the ground (from lack of rainfall) with nothing left of their existence but an empty, slowly decaying house and maybe two or three dogs or mules soon to be pawned off by poor, and therefore greedy, neighbors. The gazeebo in town square was more of a heat stroke-inducing time bomb than a safe haven from the sun and everyone sought mercy within the walls of the church. The citizens of my small town bustled when outside, the desire to make the town great again and keep rats or black snakes from population and status driving them along. No stranger, especially one of color or non-Christian origin, was welcome to stay in Newburg. Change was not welcome. In fact, Kyle could not have come at a worse, yet better time...._

"Eric, could you bring me them green beans? They need to to clean befo'e I can cook 'em." My mother's hands, as far as I think back on it, were neither frail nor exceedingly strong. They were the calloused, tiny hands of someone not used to having a man to support her until the arrival of a son some fifteen years before. She relied me to do many of the chores that a man should do, but some of the embarassing women's chores as well. I loved her though, do not get me wrong, and I helped her in anytime she would let me. Family was extremely important to me back then.

"Of course Mama.... Say, can I play with Stan and Kenny?" At the time, "playing" meant trying a cigarette for the first time or catcalling the pretty girls and no matter how many slaps we received or coughs we endured, we would be sure to try something even more exciting the next day. Today we were going to try stomaching hard liquor, but Mama did not know that.

"Sure sweethaht, just remember to take care by the tracks...." As she trailed off, I looked up from the basket of picked green beans I carried to see her in front of the sink, peering out the window. I followed her eyes and was not pleased by what I saw.

Usually our window overlooked a house resting stop on hill that the town's founders had given up on before it was even finished. It stood on bad ground and had since been surrounded by weeds, trees, and ivy, each trying to stake a claim in gradually choking the small, underdeveloped property out of existence. However, now through the smudged glass I spied a smaller-than-average Hoovercart, or car, being unloaded and the belongings being taken into the house. What the...? Setting the beans on the counter beside Mama, I went out to investigate, calling that I would be back soon and then the sound of fish frying in the skillet accompanied Mama in the kitchen.

When I arrived twenty minutes later, the only person on the hill was a kid who looked to be around my age. "What are you doing here?" I growled in one of my more menacing voices. He turned, giving me a dazzling smile I did not expect and made his way toward me, stopping a few feet away.

"Hello, I was not aware we had neighbors!" He had an accent, comfiriming my suspicions that he came from far off. I quirked a brow, gesturing down the mountainous slope toward the small hill my house resided on. "I don't know how you didn't know, we're right over there." I shook my head. He distracted me from my question! "What are you doing here?" I repeated, making the tone that much more intimidating.

"I am moving in!" His smile grew even wider, making me sure he was some kind of alien. How can someone be happy about leaving everyone they cared about? As I considered his lack of loyalty to one place, I also took in his appearance. Small in height and weight, hair like autumn leaves, summer grass for his eyes, and skin as pale as the soft moonlight, a light splatter of freckles across his nose-this boy was definately good-looking. In fact, if he grew some inches, put on a handful of pounds and had been born here, there was no doubt in my head that all the availiable girls would be all over him. However, he was stranger and judging by the silly, circular hat on the back of his head, a Jew as well.

"No one 'round here takes too kindly to strangers. Stir up too much trouble." I hoped my warning would take an immediate effect and he would pack away his things and leave. (Oh reader, if he had chosen to leave then!) "You should go on and pack, leave town.

"But this is such beautiful scenery. And the land is spacious even in town!"

"You're not hearing me, boy!" I cried over his attempts. "Leave!"

He smiled again, but this time it was sad. "I am sorry Eric, but I can not go. Father says he wants to start a new life and well, the city holds...bad memories." Huffing angrily, I turned-for I knew I could win this moving in battle another day-and stomped back to my house, not bothering to give the Jew a second glance.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: This chapter isn't as long as I originally had it, but I thought this would be a good place to stop for now. By the way, the adults will be the only ones with the southern accent written down because it would be too much trouble if everyone spoke that way and you guys didn't understand what the heck I was talking about. And also, I'm kinda lazy...XD

I wanted the setting to be in South Park, but (imagine my own surprise when I thought this) I thought South Park would be more politically correct. Sorry if you think Newburg is the wrong town for this story, but it's old and teeming with historical predjudice. Please leave a review and I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible. In the meantime, here's a sneak peek!

_"How did you know what religion I practice?" He asked with a chuckle, reaching back and slightly brushing his Jew-hat with his hand._

_"Does it really matter is if it's the _wrong_ one?"_

_"Why do you think my religion is wrong, Eric?" The kid-Kyle-asked calmly. The only indicator of any emotion was a confused frown. I had to admit, the question threw me off balance and I did not wonder how he already knew my name. _

_"B-beacuse Jesus is, is the Son of God!" I sputtered. "The Jews killed him out of fear of change and spitefulness, and God hates for murdering His only Son!" I could not believe he had never thought of this logical explanation._

_"But why do you think that? Did you ever stop to think that Jesus might have been a false prophet? If he was, and we stopped him from spreading blasphemous beliefs throughtout the children of Israel, was that so wrong?"_

_"...."_

_"I do not mean for you to doubt your religion, Eric." He was now smiling that brilliant smile again, shaking his head. "I am only trying to show you a different side of the conflict." He then reached up to pat me on the shoulder, but I stepped back._

_"Look Jew, I'm not gay."_

_"I suppose this town is pretty close-minded then."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Well you seem to shun whatever is new or out of the ordinary and you think whatever God says about anyone means that He hates them. I feel sorry for you Eric, because as long as you share the same mindset, you will not have many true friends." He walked away then, leaving me to mentally defend my beliefs. If he kept this up, he would never get out of my head._

_Dammit._

A pretty long preview this time! :D Until next time!

~theflawintheplan


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke to another grey morning, storm clouds hung low over Newburg, practically bursting with rain. I knew the precious drops would not fall though.

They never did.

Breathing a heavy sigh, I heaved myself out of bed and set about getting ready for the day. I pulled on my best clothes, combed through my hair and grabbed my bible-the spine worn from opening it so many times.

I went down the stairs to greet the smell of frying bacon and ham, eggs, and hash browns. **(1) **My mother looked up to see me standing in the kitchen doorway and formed a kind smile. "Why good mo'nin' Eric," She greeted as she wiped her hands on the old stained apron. "You look all handsome for church. Some people might thahnk yer going out with the preecher." **(2) **She laughed at her little offending joke, but I did not find it at all funny.

Sitting down at the table, I frowned at my mother. "Good morning, Mama," I said politely. "What do you think the preacher's going to talk about during today's sermon?"

She thought about it for a while before shrugging. "Well I wouldn't know, but I would 'spect that he would talk 'bout them Jewish folk that came yesterd'y. Folks 'round here might be purty sore if he doesn't touch on what them being here means for the community." I shrugged at that as well as she poured the contents of the skillet on my plate.

"May I go outside real fast, Mama?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Now Eric Cartman, I paid good money for them church trousers and jacket. If you get 'em dirty...."

"I won't, I promise."

"Alraht." She agreed. I hurried with my breakfast and walked quickly out the door toward my destination. Once again I was doing something Mama would not approve of, and in hindsight, killed my faith, trust, and two of my friends.

When I reached the Jew's house, I rapped on his door. After this was already done, I kicked myself. This was Sunday. The Jews were obiviously not home, they were at whatever church they went to when they wanted to worship whatever god they served. Though, to my utter surprise, the door opened to reveal a groggy redhead with haphazard _work_ clothes on.

"What is this?" I asked in shock. Why was he not dressed in his Sunday best?

I spoke my question out loud and he smiled as if amused.

"I worship God on Saturday, the Sabbath." Now he looked slightly confused, as if not expecting this kind of reaction out of me.

"S-Saturday?" I stuttered, completely thrown off track. Even Token Black, the shunned black kid in town, knew the correct day to praise the Lord was on Sunday. That was just how it had always been. I turned around quickly and started back for my house, not responding to any concerned shouts the Jew made after me.

_'There's no hope for that kid's soul.'_ I realized. If he did not go to church, he was not giving God the time he deserved. That redhead was going to go straight to hell when he died, I knew that for certain.

And for some reason unknown to me at the time, this thought worried me.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

"Hey, it's you again!" The joyous redhead began to come toward me. '_Not you again,' _I pleaded, but he did not fade.I had been hoping since I did not see him for a fortnight now that he finally took my advice and got the hell out of Newburg, Missouri or even just smiply vanished, but God did not allow me that simple pleasure.

"What do you want, Jew?" I was not interested in conversing with a damned soul.

"My name is Kyle, actually."

"What do you _want_, Jew?"

"How did you know what religion I practice?" He asked with a chuckle, reaching back and slightly brushing his Jew-hat with his hand.

"Does it really matter is if it's the wrong one?"

"Why do you think my religion is wrong, Eric?" The kid-Kyle-asked calmly. The only indicator of any emotion was a confused frown. I had to admit, the question threw me off balance and I did not wonder how he already knew my name.

"B-beacuse Jesus is, is the Son of God!" I sputtered. "The Jews killed him out of fear of change and spitefulness, and God hates for murdering His only Son!" I could not believe he had never thought of this logical explanation.

"But why do you think that? Did you ever stop to think that Jesus might have been a false prophet?"

I chose not to answer because I had never even considered an alternative, but I also had never been completely for my religion the way the Ginger-Jew was for his.

"If he was, and we stopped him from spreading blasphemous beliefs throughout the children of Israel, was that so wrong?"

"..."

"I do not mean for you to doubt your religion, Eric." He was now smiling that brilliant smile again, shaking his head. "I am only trying to show you a different side of the conflict." He then reached up to pat me on the shoulder, but I stepped back.

"Look Jew, I'm not gay." Kyle did something I was not expecting. He laughed.

"What's wrong with being gay?"

"Everything! God hates homosexuals!"

"Why?"

"I DON'T KNOW! I just read it in the bible!" Anger surged through my veins. What was he getting at? How dare he consider himself superior to me?

"I suppose this town is pretty close-minded then."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Well you seem to shun whatever is new or out of the ordinary and you think whatever God says about non-Christians and gays means that He hates them. I feel sorry for you Eric, because as long as you share the same mindset, you will not have many true friends." He walked away then with another frown on his face and left me to mentally defend my beliefs. If he kept this up, he would never get out of my head.

Dammit.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: Another chapter came and went and Eric would like you to review and give your own thoughts on The Jew. Please?

By the way, I hope I didn't offend people with the religion talk and the dialect writing. I really am trying to remember how people in Newburg talk and write down the vowels they make. Also, I bull****ed my way through that last conversation between Kyle and Eric, and I understand if the Jews on this site hate me forever for trying to talk about something I barely know anything about. I am trying to research the exact beliefs though....Any help?

**(1)** That sounds like a good old fashioned country breakfast to me and my grandparents (and they should know)!

**(2) **Her joke, is some people didn't get it, was that a preacher is not supposed to be gay. Funny right? Maybe not, I thought so at the time....

_**"And I sure don't want my kids being influenced by Satan. Is that what you want for your kids?"**_

_**"No sir, Pastor!" The congregation rang out. The preacher slammed his hands down the pulpit, slapping it repeatedly as he drove his point home.**_

_**"Satan is always trying to tear down strong Christain homes by grabbing our children away. But I know that as long as I bring my problems to Jesus, and lean on his Holy Word, my prayers will be answered!" As Pastor Brown finished his sermon, all kinds of people were jumping around and running around the sancuary, plum full of the Holy Ghost. I wished I could join them, but at that moment Pastor Brown looked at me and we both knew the fiery accusation hidden behind his smile.**_

Anyway, please remember to review! It seriously helps get the chapters out faster!

**Eric:** Your thoughts on the Jew, please!

~theflawintheplan


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday morning I was running errands for Mama so she would not have to walk around in the blistering heat. I had just finished giving Mrs. McCormick a cup of sugar when I spied a head of red curls studying the statue that was near the gazebo in Town Square. The marble statue used to depict a tall proud soldier who welcomed the start of a new day and glared down when the rare crop failures appeared in town, but a century of suns saw the concrete and stone give way to portray a hunch-backed old hag with a sneering grimace and whose face had long since turned from the rising sun; the statue's slow decline continued until everyone in town reached the same conclusion: it had to go. But I digress. Some force I could not quite name at the time, and still have some troubles recognising, caused me to run up to the Jew and pull him into the adorning woods of Newburg. "What are you doing here? Do you understand what 'ignorance is bliss' means? If no one sees you in town, we can all pretend you don't exist." Kyle's gaze was fixed on me and I shifted uncomfortably. He seemed to stare into my very soul and I was not sure what he could see….

"Eric, what exactly is your problem?" His eyes narrowed and I realised that this was the first time I had ever seen him angry. I flushed, trying desperately to gather my thoughts, but Kyle was not interested in giving me a chance to defend myself.

"My family has yet to treat you all with hostility and you repay us by saying we should lock ourselves in our house and throw away the key? And you, Eric, I've only ever been nice to you and tried to show you that whatever they brainwashed you with is false. Jews are not evil creatures of Satan and we're not out to steal your soul every time you close your eyes!" He started to cough violently in all his excited anger. I reached for him in concern, but he moved away, much to my relieved sorrow (I know that is a strange combination), and walked away. I shook my head to rid myself of any thoughts I might later have of the Jew and came out of the brush.

"Eric!" A new, older voice called behind me. I recognised the man as the pastor, John Brown. He was a man in his sixties, with white hair receding into the liver-spotted top of his head and a lanky, fragile figure. The man had a voice like thunder when it came to the Gospel though. His brother, Father Maxi (Pastor Brown had changed his name), was the Catholic Priest somewhere in Massachusetts; the two did not talk often. Pastor Brown had told the people of Newburg it was because the distance between them was too great.

I blanched, colouring my face with embarrassment. Had he noticed me talking to Kyle? However, he only smiled down at me kindly and his eyes did not reflect the shock or anger I had anticipated. "Good mornin'!"

"G-good morning, Pastor Brown," I cursed myself for not being able to calm down.

"And what are ya up to today?"

"Oh...nothing much, just running the usual errands for Mama."

"Of course ya are," he said genially.

"How are you, Pastor?"

A deep chuckle sounded, "I'm doin' just fine, Eric. Just fine....I missed ya at church on Sund'y." Racking my brain rapidly, I realised that was the day I was talking to the Jew about Jesus and homosexuals. I was supposed to have been running a quick errand for Mama, but the ginger-Jew had distracted me from my duties.

"Yeah, I was..." I tried searching for a reasonable excuse, but my brain blocked all but one. "...Sick," I finished lamely.

"Yer mother said ya were running an errand." He persisted in confusion.

"Yeah, that's when I got sick. I think the heat got to me or something. I should be fine now though, I just gotta keep drinkin' those fluids!" I joked playfully. He returned my smile, but his was not forced.

"Well, I believe ya Eric," he looked over to the church steeple of the church and his voice grew quieter, thunder that was ways off, yet still warned people it was coming. "Ya know Eric, the devil wears many masks. Ya haven't been talking to 'em Jews, have ya?"

I snorted, "Of course not." I was surprised at how easily the sin escaped my lips. Was this what lying for the devil felt like? I wanted to take back my words, but my mouth was cemented so tightly, God Himself would not have been able to call down his angels and pry my lips apart. However, before I had time to be too worried about my relationship with the pastor, his twinkling eyes returned and nearly closed with the size of his smile.

"I don't recall yer mother saying anythin' to the congregation about yer being sick." He continued cordially. I wondered at his ability to flow into different topics of conversation with seeming ease. My next answer came too quickly.

"She left before she knew."

For a moment, Pastor Brown just looked into my eyes, his piercing gaze raking my very soul for the truth I refused to provide. Then he gave me another grand smile and boomed with laughter, "Of course she did." His thunderous laughs did not cease until I joined in, albeit tensely. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Y'all both be at church tomorra though, rahgt?"

"Of course," I replied, still chuckling nervously. As we exchanged our goodbyes and he started away, I wondered how I had managed to fool the town's most influential citizen after being caught with the Jew. After that I never gave our conversation another thought back then, and Pastor Brown had not given me a reason to. In fact, it was not until a few weeks later when I began to suspect the pastor of nudging me out of His favour.

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

It was a sunny morning, but ominous rain clouds lurked about two hundred miles out, dangling teasingly over the neighbouring town. Mother and I strolled to the church building, hoping perhaps a few droplets would splatter over our dry town, but deep in our hearts, we knew it was only a passing dream, a frail and fallible fancy. We made it inside the church building just as the bell signalled the stragglers to pick up their pace before the pastor began his sermon. Soon though, the doors were closed and anyone were still outside would not be able to seek the mercy of Jesus that morning. Everyone began to gossip before the preacher made it to the pulpit.

"Did ya'll meet 'em Jews who moved into the house by the Cartmans?"

"Meet 'em? There was no peace at that house, only Satan's dark magic."

"Indeed, I once trah'd to go up the hill 'n give 'em a housewarming gift, but they trah'd to attack me with voodoo 'n witchcraft!" All three ladies fell into fits of terror and I rolled my eyes. I wanted to reply to their obvious lies and false horrors, but at that moment Pastor Brown burst into the room and made his way to the front of the sanctuary.

"Good mornin'. Isn't the Lord good to us?" Many of the surrounding people in the congregation "Amen" 'd or "Hallelujah" 'd and I joined them, not wanting to have anyone know of my dwindling doubts in a saviour who did not love everyone. What if the Jews were right? What if he was not the Messiah? Would that mean Christians were going to Hell for worshipping a false God?

"Today's message's about Satan bein' among us." Everyone around me gasped and I leaned closer, wondering what passages of the Bible the sermon would encompass. "We'll be jumpin' 'round the Holy Word today, so bear with me 'n the Lord'll bless yer understandin'." Placing his reading glasses on his long, crooked nose, he loudly cleared his throat and flipped to the starting verse, barely glancing at his lost students before beginning. "The first two verses come from Deuteronomy 8:19-20. '_And it shall be, if thou do at all forget the Lord thy God, and walk after other gods and serve them, and worship them, I will testify against you and this day that ye shall surely perish. As the nations which the Lord destoryeth before your face, so shall ye perish; because ye would not be obedient unto the voice of the Lord thy God.' "_ **(1)** Here he looked straight into the congregation and whispered, forcing us all to lean into forward further. "Do you want to know who the Lord's talkin' about?"

Without waiting for an answer, he slammed his hand onto the pulpit. "Satan can take any form he likes, can I get a witness?" When someone stood, he continued. "He can sneak into our close-knit fam'lies 'n seduce our children into the darkness if we don't reach out to 'em and teach 'em the way of truth 'n light. But God in knows we needs help and he won't leave us. Proverbs 22:6 tells us, '_Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.'_ Proverbs 6:20 says, _'My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother.'_

"Do you want to leave your children to burn for eternity in the lake of fire?" Another collective gasp met this rhetorical question. Apparently not satisfied with the response, Pastor Brown brought his hand down onto the pulpit three more times before stopping. Then, without saying what book the verse came from, he quoted, " _'Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.' "_ The preacher slammed his hands down the pulpit, slapping it repeatedly as he drove his point home. "Don't associate yerself with the Devil lest Newburg fall to ruin. And I sure don't want my kids being influenced by Satan. Is that what you want for your kids?"

"No sir, Pastor!" The congregation sang out with a lone clap of distant thunder as their accompaniment.

"Remember that Jesus knows every heart." As the choir stood behind him, his sermon already came to a close. His eyes connected with mine and the crowd seemed to fade as he continued. "If you feel burdened in any way, don't turn to the Devil, for he cannot help you. Only Jesus, the man persecuted by the very demons among us, is the answer. Look to him and your burdens will be lifted." The choir began to sing "Turn Your Eyes upon Jesus," but no one was really listening to them. They were all tuned into Pastor Brown and his last few sentences.

"Satan is always trying to tear down strong Christian homes by grabbing our children away. But I know that as long as I bring my problems to Jesus, and lean on his Holy Word, my prayers will be answered!" All kinds of people were jumping around and running around the sanctuary, plum full of the Holy Ghost. I wished I could join them, but at that moment Pastor Brown really looked at me and we both knew the fiery accusation hidden behind his smile.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A/N: Well there you go! Another chapter there that I hope you're satisfied with please leave a review! Preferably nice since I've been going through some stressful times, but if you seriously find something wrong with the story, please feel free to drop a line of criticism. XD

**(1)** I put these verses in the sermon for irony. I wanted a Christian to use part of the Torah for Jew bashing and at the same time, the part about false gods could be interpreted as the Jews being right about Jesus....Take it any way you like!

~theflawintheplan


	4. Chapter 4

When I awoke the following Friday morning, it was to face another "potential" storm. I rolled out of bed tiredly and began to get dressed with an almost ominous knot in my stomach. I knew it came from the dream I had the night before, I could not remember for the life of me what it was about or why I was so worried about it. I tried to dismiss it and hoped the unnecessary feeling would leave with it. I made it downstairs in time to see Mama working on breakfast.

"Mama, can I go hang out with Stan and Kenny today?"

She paused in her cooking to turn to me and wipe some sweat from her brow. "Eric, I'm almost finished with your food."

"I know Mama, but it's been a while since we were together, just the three of us. Please?"

"…I suppose it's alraht. So long as you're back befo'e two."

A hurried thank you, a quick kiss on the cheek, and my life was changed forever….

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~

It was not long before I found my two friends. They were right were them expected them to be: a secluded clearing in Newburg's woods, a place that we had officially claimed as our favourite place to meet. It was a slightly shady spot, providing a shelter and privacy for us as no one knew of this special place.

The leaves spilled on the forest floor gave away my entrance and my two best friends looked up at me in surprise. Kenny's face easily slid into a teasing smile. The only indication of this was one twinkling eye—the only part of his face that was not hidden by the scarf he wrapped around his head every day. His voice was slightly muffled as he talked.

"We haven't seen you for a few days, Eric. Where have you been?"

Stan's smile was a bit more suspicious. "Yeah, have you been hanging out with someone new lately?" His tone let me know which "someone new" he suspected.

"I've been busy the last few days." I defended sharply. "Trust me, there is no one new to be around." Stan's eyes never left mine as he nodded slowly.

"That's good, Eric," he drawled. The dry implication in his next words still haunts me to this day. "After all, we don't want anything to happen to our leader." His smile had yet to reach to his eyes and we both knew this. Kenny, however, remained oblivious of Stan's silent accusation.

''I know, just think of our sorrow over losing our best officer." Kenny's eye nearly closed with his mirth. "You're the best leader we've ever had."

Stan rolled his eyes, finally smiling genuinely as he smacked Kenny in the head. Stan and I ignored the fact that the boy's hat almost fell off. "That's because we've ever known another leader, you idiot." He laughed as Kenny scowled while fixing his self-created mask.

"I have a question for you fellas." I blurted. I had been debating for those days I had avoided them—hence the reason I had not seen them until that morning—about whether or not I should bring up Brown's sermon. Now there was no backing down.

Kenny, the blond and brown-eyed idiot, smiled encouragingly at me. He was happy again now that his scarf had been righted. "What did you want to ask?" Stan was curious as well. He tilted his head and all earlier malice was gone from his expression. Finding their reactions to be pretty good, I took a deep breath and continued.

"What did you think about the pastor's last two sermons?" I chose to include that past Wednesday night's lecture as well since they both had the same tone and topic. Kenny and Stan's faces showed a lack of appreciation for the question.

Kenny was confused. "Why would you ask all of a sudden?" His mud-coloured eye narrowed quizzically. His thin and weak body leaned slightly toward me, eager for my answer.

Stan's ice blue eyes set into a much more sinister and distrustful expression. His sharp nose pointed accusingly between my own chestnut eyes. Once again he smiled, but it was not friendly. "Yeah Eric, you never seemed to doubt the pastor before. What's going on?"

Again, I was quick to defend myself. "I don't doubt what he's saying, I merely asked you two what you thought. It was the first time he said anything like that." The malicious glow faded from the blue depths as Stan returned to his old self. Or, at least, the glow was no longer meant for me.

"You're asking if we share his views?" He was silent until my nod encouraged him on. He turned to Kenny. "What do you think, Kenny?"

Kenny wasted no time as his grin stretched from ear to covered ear. "Of course I agree with Pastor Brown. Jews are going to burn in the Lake of Fire while the Church will be saved from the brimstone. It says so in Revelations." I am ashamed to say that his ability to be so cheery while stating out loud how he pictured burning failed to send chills down my spine at the time.

Stan smirked and I did not know if it was for Kenny's answer, his next statement, or my inevitable reaction to both. "I'm the same, of course. Those Jews killed our Lord and Saviour. They're demons who want to destroy every good thing Jesus gave us. They deserve God's wrath."

I wondered at my friend's transformation. When we were younger, perhaps around eight or nine, Stan was the first out of everyone in town to tolerate all kinds of people, cultures, and religions—basically, I thought of him as a Hippie. At least, he was that way until Pastor Brown took him aside one Sunday afternoon for a private conversation. No one quite knows what was said, even to this day, yet Stan Marsh seemed changed permanently.

And everyone in town agreed it was for the better.

"Do they?"

I did not realize I had spoken that thought out loud until I saw the dead shock on their faces. I tried to keep my cool enough to explain myself through a fake laugh. "I mean, I'm not trying to make what they did a good thing. I'm merely suggesting that there are more reasons than just malice."

'_Maybe God doesn't hate those who think they're doing God's name justice.'_

Stan's brows quirked in disbelieving surprise and Kenny only appeared to be confused again at my changing views. I snickered and was glad I sounded genuine admist my inner turmoil. "Guys, seriously? I'm playing with you. You think I would really side with the Devil? Apparently you don't know me as well as I thought you did." We laughed easily and even the tension between Stan and I was soon forgotten as we turned to more agreeable, more alcohol-fueled conversations.

Sometimes, I still wish it had stayed that way.

**A/N**: So the chapter is still agonizingly short, but hopefully I can change that soon enough. Here's a preview for the next chapter, though:

**I woke up from my dream in a cold sweat, yet I could not remember what had me so spooked. However, I did not dwell on that thought too long as I felt something weighing down my chest. Looking up, I met yellow, cat-like eyes as Stan Marsh smirked down at me.**

"**Welcome to Hell, Eric."**

Even the preview is too short…oh well. I realize Stan and Eric's personalities seem to be switched, but I kind of the like the irony of it all. Let me know what you think! _**Also, vote for this story on my profile if you want to see it continued right away. I'll only focus on the stories with the top five slots and update the others only after those five are finished.**_

~theflawintheplan


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